


Tomb of the Undying (ON HIATUS)

by Pizzaplate



Category: Mechanicus (Video Game), Warhammer 40.000
Genre: A little from Necron, Gen, I wanted more character bits, Mostly from Mechanicus POV, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, lots of people die, so i added them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzaplate/pseuds/Pizzaplate
Summary: After a long rest, the crew of the Caestus Metalican receives a panicked and garbled transmission, begging them to come to a far-flung planet. What kind of inhuman horrors await them? And what secrets can be plumbed from their depths?
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	1. Wake Up and Smell the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever story that I've written! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
> I am not a Black Library author, nor do I own Warhammer (wish I did tho).

* * *

**Biological Processes: Nominal**

**Neuro-Vaults: Quarantined**

**Augmetics: Repaired**

**Effective Operational Capacity: 96.22%**

**Time Elapsed: 1209600 seconds**

**_timetogetup_**

Magos Faustinius ‘awoke’ with a low, mechanical grumble, his auspex taking in the room he was in, darting around the room and looking for anything that could be out of place.

**_No_Immediate_Threat_Detected_**

With the partial all-clear signal given by his combat cogitator, the more fleshy parts of his mind began to stir to life. Synapses fired, telling limbs to wake up. Nerves flowed like streams into wiring, activating his fluid recyclers and oxygen intake. His lone unaugmented eye opened, slowly adjusting to the candlelit room that was his personal recharging station. His work terminal glowed a faint blue; the candles on top of it had been freshly replaced, most likely within the last day or so. His auspex glancing over the room, comparing it to pict-grabs taken before he underwent repairs, looking for any deviation outside the norm of Servitors replacing candles or Servo-Skulls fixing loose wiring. Audio receptors booted up, bringing with them the faintest hint of bianaric prayers and music through the walls from the nearby shrine. 

Faustinius’ emotional centers returned a sense of peace upon hearing it, which he promptly deleted, determined to make sure everything was right before he opened himself to potential vulnerabilities. Haptic feedback from his implants and artificial limbs let him know that all 1.37 tons of his body were exactly where his specifications meant them to be, even down to the most minute of details. He flexed both his arms, his three tentacle-like mechadendrites, and his spider-like legs before he cycled through his various weapons to ensure that everything was properly working.

His neuro-vaults returned satisfaction at the uneventful hibernation, and he chose to experience it. While events that required waking him up were rare indeed, they had happened enough though his long career as Magos that he felt content that he had been undisturbed for the two weeks required by his meditation and repair sequence.

**Connecting to Ark Mechanicus: Caestus_Metalican…**

**Connecting to Noosphereic communication terminals…**

**!Connection Established!**

Streams of Lingua Technis filled Faustinius’ ‘sight,’ zeros and ones cascading over him like a waterfall would on a rock, taking him outside his corporeal body where he could see the ship as a river of raw data. The ship was operating at peak efficiency, the enginarium keeping the Caestus Metalican in a stable orbit above the planet she had been stationed over the past couple of months. Data streams between Skitarii ground forces and Sub-Domina Kephra indicating that their campaign of pacification was nearly over. ‘ _Praise the Machine God_ ,’ thought the Magos. ‘ _We are set to take the planet both within the allotted time frame and with 18.1% fewer casualties than projected. I shall see to it that Kephra is rewarded for her performance_.’

He glanced around the room, and his eyes settled upon a broken, scuffed, and dented laspistol held within a glass case. His first weapon from when he was a mere Tech-Adept. He wasn’t quite sure why he had kept it these 832 standard Terran years, but his emotional cores returned agitation and sadness whenever he attempted to have it recycled or repaired. So he kept it. He could almost feel the whizzing of autogun bullets and las rounds as he began to replay his first mission. Where had that been? Right! It was on St...

**_Transmission_Received_**

A small * _ping_ from the Noosphere interrupted his nostalgia and caught his attention. A request to come to the bridge, sent by…

‘ _Reditus? What transmission has he received that was so important it could not be handled via binary_ ?’ he thought, his many mechanical legs and balance stabilizers taking him out the door of his office and into the Caestus Metalican’s many winding corridors and vast, cathedral-like hallways. _‘I wonder if this has anything to do with young Tiresus. If his incessant questioning is proving too much for the Magos Minoris and their retinues, then I am unsure what to do about him_.’ 

Passing by the shrine, he took a few seconds out of his journey to bask in the splendor of the building. Massive, artificially lit stained-glass windows depicting great battles, rediscovered technology, and important figures from the Cult Mechanicus: Arkhan Land; the current Fabricator-General; and the Avatar of the Omnissiah himself, the Emperor of Mankind. Even though Faustinius was far too young or unimportant to have glimpsed any of them in person, he still felt as though he had known these figures throughout his entire lengthy life. Scanning the room, the Magos noticed that while many menials, Skitarii, and even a few of his specialist Tech-Priests were shouting their most holy binary prayers to the Machine God, Lector-Dogmatix Videx wasn’t in his normal place at the Altar of the Omnissiah. ‘ _Strange_ ,’ he thought, ‘ _my cogitator confirms I’ve never seen him take a break from preaching since he arrived on the ship. What could tear Videx away from the pulpit_?’ He shuddered at the thought of something so blasphemous it could tear the Lector-Dogmatix away from his beloved scripture and towards the firing line and continued onwards to the highly guarded elevatorium leading to the bridge. 

When the elevator doors were just in sight, the security systems took hold. The door locked, gun servitors trained their heavy bolters on Faustinius, and automated (by Imperial standards) gun turrets with targeting servo-skulls popped out of ports in the high vaulted ceiling. A servitor rolled up to him on a pair of tank treads, artificial eyes glowing red against its dying grey skin, wires criss-crossing its back and skull, as it held a microphone up to the Magos with its remaining human arm.

A pale simulacrum of the human voice emitted from the speaker embedded in the servitor’s throat, “Password is required for further entry _._ ”

“Codephrase: Deus ex machina.”

“Response: Diabolus ex carne. Welcome, Magos Faustinius.” With those words, the servitors and gun emplacements disengaged from the Magos and began scanning for threats again. Faustinius walked into the elevator, his massive body nearly filling it completely. He punched in the code for the bridge and broadcast his intent across the Noosphere, just in case one of the maintenance servitors had been late to working on the button panel. As the elevator doors closed and he felt the floor rise up to bring him to the bridge, a thought flew through his mind, so sudden and overpowering that he said it aloud.

“What could be so Throne-damned important?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE give me constructive criticism. I always want to be better.
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y  
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ


	2. Do Androids Sweat Coolant?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faustinius has a meeting with the Magos Minoris, and learns of the issue that woke him up.

The elevator arrived at the bridge, and with a small  _ ting  _ the ornately carved doors opened. Scanning the room, Faustinius immediately felt concern flooding from his neuro-vaults. Every important figure on the Caestus Metalican was gathered around the central hololith: Videx, Kephra, Xerxetes, Quartermaster Rho, Tech-Aquisitor Scaevola, Captrix, and even young Tiresus! They were all looking at the Magos with a strange mixture of anticipation and dread, as though a part of them hoped he was still asleep.

**Calculating Event Probabilities…**

**Mars has Fallen to the Great Rift: >1%**

**Campaign of Pacification has Hit Obstacle: 45%**

**The Emperor has Been Revived, and has Asked for Me Personally: null_value**

**Other: 54%**

**_Acquire_Information_**

“What development was so important that it could not be handled via the Noosphere?” Faustinius asked, looking around the room for the servo-skull before taking his seat upon the command throne. “Reditus, explain yourself.”

“ A̵n̸ ̶e̵c̴h̸o̵ ̸i̷n̵ ̷t̶h̵e̸ ̴N̴o̶o̴s̸p̸h̶e̷r̸e̸,̴ ̷M̸a̶g̸o̶s̸.̸ ̵L̷o̴s̸t̸ ̴i̴n̵ ̶t̸h̸e̵ ̵W̵a̴r̷p̴ ̵a̶n̵d̸ ̶r̸e̷c̴o̴v̸e̴r̷a̵b̶l̷e̶ ̸o̷n̷l̷y̷ ̸n̶o̶w̸.̴ “ a voice responded from the ceiling. The Magos looked up as he saw a skull attached to an an-grav plate descend to the floor level, stopping a meter above the ground. Its single artificial eye and empty eye socket seemed to stare directly into his soul. “ _ Reditus, _ ” he thought. “ _ Even in death, he serves the Omnissiah. _ ”

He addressed the floating skull. “Is it worthy of our attention? The Great Rift splits the galaxy in twain. The Adeptus Mechanicus has its resources stretched to the breaking point.” This much was true. With the fall of the fortress-world of Cadia and the opening of the Great Rift, all resources available to the Imperium of Man were being rapidly exhausted. Entire planetary systems were being strip-mined to fuel the Forge Worlds’ incessant hunger for raw materials, the produced goods and weapons being used almost as fast as they were being created.

It might not be enough.

“W̶e̶ ̶a̵r̷e̸ ̸w̸e̴a̴k̸e̷r̷ ̵t̴h̵a̶n̴ ̸e̵v̷e̵r̸,̵ ̶t̸h̸o̶u̴g̶h̴ ̷t̷h̷e̵ ̴I̵m̶p̷e̸r̸i̸u̴m̸ ̷a̶t̶ ̴l̸a̸r̴g̵e̴ ̵k̵n̸o̵w̴s̵ ̵i̴t̵ ̴n̷o̸t̵.̸ ̷T̶h̸i̶s̴ ̷r̵e̸p̷r̴e̴s̷e̶n̶t̶s̶ ̶a̴n̴ ̵u̵n̵k̵n̵o̴w̴n̴,̴ ̶b̴u̸t̴ ̶p̶o̸s̵s̵i̷b̵l̵e̷ ̴k̸e̶y̴ ̴t̶o̵ ̴v̷i̴c̵t̵o̴r̵y̵.̶ “ responded the ancient vox unit embedded in the skull. Scaevola and Videx shot hateful glances at each other and Reditus, before settling upon the Magos. 

**Probabilities Updated…**

**Supply Cache from Dark Age of Technology Located: 20%**

**Explorator Mission Returned with Promise: 15%**

**Human Variant Empire Located: 10%**

**Chaotic Warp Rift Removal Possible: >.01%**

**Xenos Allyship Possible: HERETICAL**

**Other: 54%**

“An opportunity to research. Perhaps avert the terrible fate that has befallen us.” The Magos returned curiosity from his emotional cores, and chose to experience it. What could this transmission contain?

“T̷h̵e̸ ̶t̴r̵a̶n̴s̸m̶i̷s̷s̶i̶o̶n̷'̷s̸ ̸o̸r̷i̴g̷i̴n̷ ̶i̷s̸ ̴S̷i̵l̷v̵i̴a̴ ̶T̸e̷n̶e̷b̷r̵i̸s̴.̶ ̸P̵a̷r̷t̷ ̸o̶f̸ ̶t̵h̷e̸ ̸A̴m̷i̴s̸s̸u̷s̴ ̶S̷o̷l̵a̶r̸i̵s̷.̸ ̸W̵i̷t̸h̸i̵n̵ ̶U̴l̷t̶i̶m̷a̷ ̶S̷e̷g̴m̶e̷n̴tu̸m̴.̴ “ That caught Faustinius’ attention. The Ultima Segmentum was damn near the other side of the galaxy, several weeks of warp travel away at the absolute earliest. “How did the transmission survive all the way from Ultima, given the unfortunate placement of the Great Rift?”

“U̸n̵k̵n̴o̶w̴n̸,̴ ̴m̴i̶g̴h̷t̸y̷ ̵M̴a̴g̷o̸s̴.̸ “

“Search the rolls, Reditus, gather them!” The Magos grimaced even as he gave the order. He knew that searching the data-rolls, even with every menial and Tech-Priest under his command, it would take weeks before anything valuable would surface, and months until that data could be transcribed into something that could give them useful information about the planet. He glanced around the hololith at the others gathered. “Continue your duties aboard the ship and planet-side as normal, but alert me if anything regarding this… ‘Silvia Tenebris’ surfaces.”

**Task_Designate: _Alpha_Plus_Prioris_**

The 7 Tech-Priests and servo-skull responded in the affirmative, some noticeably more enthusiastic than others.

“Command = accepted. Magos’ word = law” came the low, computerized voice of Scaevola as she bowed her head to the floor.

“Y̵e̸s̶,̵ ̷M̷a̴g̸o̸s̶ ̵F̶a̷u̷s̸t̸i̴n̴i̶u̴s̵.̶ “ said Reditus before he ascended into the ceiling.

“I shall alert you if the Omnissiah allows me sight of this quarry,” Videx murmured, lighting a sacred incense stick as he began printing out the Ninth Beseechment of the Omnissiah for Guidance and Data Locating from his auto-quill.

“The falconers are dispatched, and the hunt for information is afoot,” bellowed Captrix in his oddly archaic way of speaking.

“If my Skitarii locate anything planetside I shall let you know immediately,” Kephra said softly, with the most… (emotion?) in her voice of any besides Videx.

“My servitor teams shall scan the data-rolls with all due haste, my Magos,” Xerxetes barked, closer in tone to a member of the Commissariat than a servant of the Omnissiah.

“I shall assist the data-scouring teams logistically as best I can,” spoke Rho, before turning his attention to one of several servo-skulls carrying supply manifests, invoices, and other mundane documents.

“If any of the Xenos language cogitators can help, I shall devote them to your efforts,” said young Tiresus, looking at his former teacher with determination in his eyes. Faustinius met his gaze for a brief moment, and then turned to the rest assembled.

“Then go now, and serve the Omnissiah in all you do.” As the assembled men and women left the room, Faustinius sat upon the command throne, deep in thought.

**_Meeting_Terminated_**

**…**

**_Begin_Meeting_Analysis/Review_**

**Communication:Received**

**Search:Begun**

**Magos_Minoris_Dispatched:7**

**Reditus_Dispatched:True**

**Odds_of_Finding_Information:100%**

**Odds_of_Finding_Information_Quickly:17%**

**Calculating_Likely_Time_Until_Development…**

**5.6 Months**

The Magos let out a sigh, a function so underused his emotional cores returned surprise he was still able to do so. “ _ These shall be a tortuous few months _ ,” Faustinius thought. He turned to the hololith and central cogitator bank, the cogitator banks forming pillars of data-stores, access terminals, and machine-ports reaching up to the ceiling. He pondered the data stored within for several moments, before getting up from the throne and activating the hololith. A blue glow washed over him as various planetary maps, equations, and data-streams appeared in the air. The void outside the windows of the room, the lights from the cogitators, and even the room itself faded away, as all he could focus on was the data in front of him.

  
“ _ I should better get started _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE give me constructive criticism. I always want to be better.
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y  
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/KyzCTwfh55


	3. Press 'e' to Interact with [Breaching Charge]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The months of digging have finally paid off! A quick and easy stroll down to the planet is in order.

Faustinius spent the next few grueling months sifting through obscure data-mediums, servitor-copied scrolls detailing transmission codes, and even the massive library of STC fragments carried upon the Caestus Metalican, all with ever-fleeting hope that something—anything—could be found. Daily prayer sessions rang through the halls and corridors of the massive Ark Mechanicus-class ship, hoping, pleading, demanding,  _ praying  _ that the search was not in vain.

Eventually, however, the Omnissiah heard their pleas.

_ Four Months Later _

**_Accessing_Magos_Rhesak_Last_Log_Entry_**

**_“Whoever finds this transmission and follows me here, give thanks that you will see what I have seen. But be wary, my fellow seekers of knowledge. Whatever lies beneath this world, I fear… I hope… I have woken it. I came to this world to investigate its ruins, but I found so much more. Terrors, yes. Threats to body and soul. But by the Omnissiah, I found… such wonders...”_ **

Faustinius addressed the Magos Minoris gathered around the hololith, listening in to the newly-recovered transmission. “This,” he gestured to the image of a Tech-Priest emitting from the hololith, “is the last transmission of Magos Rhesak. He vanished while on an Explorator mission to investigate Xenos structures on Silva Tenebris.”

Scaevola activated her vox unit and began to speak. “[[Hypothesis]] He found something.”

His emotional cores returned frustration and anger, which he chose to experience. Looking at Scaevola with irritation for interrupting him with something so obvious, Faustinius continued. “Our mission on this world is to ascertain any Xenos presence and, if we find it, eliminate it as a threat to the Imperium.” He looked around the room before settling on Quartermaster Rho. “The opening of the Great Rift means that we are cut off from resources from any Forge Worlds. We must achieve this with the troops and resources we bring with us aboard the Caestus Metalican, or can recover on-planet.” 

Rho shifted nervously and began reading through various dataslates he had brought, obviously dreading the logistical nightmare that is subjugating a planet with a single ship’s resources.

Scaevola pressed a few buttons on the circular hololith, bringing up a detailed 3D model of the planet. “[Benefit analysis] Peace for Sector. Knowledge for Mankind. +++potential. +++opportunity.”

Videx looked at her as though the words that had left her ‘mouth’ had killed a small child in front of him. The diminutive man in the an-grav chair seemed to almost shake with righteous anger. “An opportunity to destroy the works of the Xenos, Tech-Aquisitor Scaevola. Not appropriate them. Themiscyran Manuscripts Verse 619: ‘What the enemy has built, let it be made asunder, for to us it will be as a house of sand and knives.’”

“M̸a̶g̵i̸,̴ ̴w̴e̴ ̴a̷r̵e̴ ̵a̵p̶p̶r̷o̴a̵c̷h̶i̵n̴g̵ ̴t̸h̸e̸ ̴t̵a̴r̷g̷e̵t̸ ̷c̴o̶o̵r̶d̶i̶n̷a̵t̶e̵s̸.̵” said Reditus, descending from his charge port in the rafters to speak to the assembled Tech-Priests. All eight closed their eyes and connected to the Noosphere.

**_Syncing_With_Caestus_Metalican_**

**_Requesting_Warp_Travel_State_**

The Noosphere was ablaze in warning klaxons and flashing danger signs: fuel tank ruptured, ten Navigators killed via psychic backlash, weapon cache venting into the void, cogitators overloading. Were their minds not accustomed to this amount of information, the men and women would likely have suffered sensory overload. Then, a single, celebration-worthy message overshadowed all the others. A true sign of the blessings of the Omnissiah.

**_Exiting_the_Empyrean_**

With a jolt that knocked some of the less-augmented personnel off their feet, the Warp Jump began to come to a close. The Gellar Field Generator kicked into overdrive, tearing a hole through the fabric of the hellish dimension of the Warp, and back into realspace. All fifteen kilometres of Ark Mechanicus emerged from the wound in reality before the hole shut tight behind it. Surrounded by its own debris and hovering above the silent planet, the Caestus Metalican had made it. Immediately, Subtribune Xexertes and Quartermaster Rho began the initial gathering of information. Augur arrays, auspex sensors, pict-feeds, and all manner of transmission receivers activated, soaking in as much information about the planet below as they could.

**Location: Eastern Fringe**

**Planet: Silva Tenebris**

**Coordinates: 3.141592X1.618034**

**_Ruins_Scattered_Across_Planet: Xenos_Origin?**

**_Ruined_Human_Structures: Colony?**

**_Life_Signs: 0**

**error: no life signs detected down to microscopic level, request re-scan?**

**re-scan complete: no error**

More information surged through the Caestus Metalican’s cogitator banks, as well as the minds of her crew. Kephra spoke up first. “There she is. Temperate climate, atmosphere standard breathable. My Skitarii troops should be able to operate down there without trouble.”

Faustinius stopped analyzing the scan results and addressed her. “Are they ready to make landfall?”

“As soon as we’re in a stable orbit, Magos.”

“A̬̒d̖͂m̰̚i̗̿n̟̈́i͍s̆͢ṱ̾ṙ͈a͍͆tu̺͋m͇̓ r͔̄ec̰̿o̝̒rd͖̽s iṉ̾dì͈c̣͗a͓͡t͎̍e a͕̐ s͖͒i̽ͅn̮͊ḡ̟ḻ̅e c̪̐ol̺̚ŏ̻n̒͟y̥̓, S̭̀t. ͇͛Eck̦̈h̫͑ȁ̖r͕̾d͜t'͚͂s͖̽ ̲̿H̉ͅo̮̅p̞̈e,͇̓ ̪̑o̗͋n ͑͢t͓̉ḧ͜ê͙ ̩͊s̽͢ụ̋r̪f͓̑a̮͒c͔̃e̠ ̥̏n̗͊ear th͈͘e͉̅ X̛̦en̝͘o̧̒s ̟͆r̥̚u͚͛i̖̇ns.̃ͅ ̼̓N̦͐o͈͌ ̩̅c̞̕o̻̓ntac̲̆t ̹̇rḙ͂c̚͢o̱͋r͖̔de̺͑d̨̆ ͎͑i͈͝ń̯ ̨͛two ̪̕c̋͢en̞̈tu͓͂riẻ̢s͙̋, ̣̚Cō͖l̠͡ô͇n̼̿y̠͝ pre̹̅s̬͆ume̡d̛͙ ̫̌f̡̉a͋͟i̘͗lẽ͔d̨̈.̗͡” said the static-filled voice of Reditus. At those words, many of the Magi fidgeted nervously. ‘ _ Something is on the planet,’  _ Faustinius thought,  _ ‘and it was powerful enough to eradicate an entire Imperial colony.’  _ He stood up as straight as his hunched-over form allowed and directed the assembled Magi to listen. “The Skitarii will deploy near the ruins along with a team of Tech-Priests under my direct command. I shall monitor them from the command throne on board. Servo-Skull Reditus shall serve as my eyes and ears on the surface. We make landfall at once.”

Kephra made the sign of the Aquila, a rather formal salute given how close the two were in rank. “Yes Magos, I’ll set up a forward command post. Rhesak’s transmission looked like it came from—” She checked her data-slate, tapping it a few times “—underground. We’ll secure any entrances to an underground structure so your Tech-Priests can begin the exploration.”

Scaevola raised a skeletal hand, metal glinting in the low light of the bridge. “[Query] Are Magos’ Tech-Priests = competent? Danger >0\. Preparedness = virtue.”

Faustinius waved her concerns away with one of his mechadendrites. “They are. Jeremiah and his team have been with me nearly as long as the Caestus Metalican has. I trust him, and his team, with my life. Some may have their—” he paused for a moment, looking for the right word, “—quirks, but they are an effective fighting force. All ten of them.”

“Ten?” All eyes suddenly turned to Rho, who looked as though his coolant tank was about to rupture. “Ten is too many. All currently operable craft can take either four to six or thirty to forty-five individuals. Inefficient and unacceptable. Take an Arvus Lighter. Seats four to six. Four ideal cohort size. Four.” With that outburst, he turned back to his inventory sheets as though he had not just interrupted the captain briefing and told him no.

**_Emotional_State: Frustrated**

Faustinius was at a loss. On one hand, he had just been defied by his own quartermaster. On the other, even through his nerve dampeners he could feel the pain of organizing a landing sortie without Rho’s help. Erratic as he was, no one else could do the job of quartermaster as well as he could. He sighed internally at the loss of combat effectiveness he would have to endure should he listen. “Very well, quartermaster. I shall take your…  _ suggestion _ into consideration. Reditus! Send word to Jeremiah and his cohort. Tell them to head to the main hanger, equipped with standard Explorator equipment. Nothing too heavy. Not unless the job demands it.”

“Y̠̌es, ̡͊ȁ̤ll-͛͜k̪no͎͆wiǹͅg̰͛ ̡͆M̺̉a̩͛go͇͡s͎͐.” Reditus tilted forward—his equivalent of a bow—and took off flying through the corridors. 

Tiresus turned to Faustinius. “Sir? What should I and the rest of the Magos Minoris do? Is there something you have for us?” 

“No, young Tiresus, you and the others—with the exception of Xexertes—shall stay here if you have no other duties. I require your counsel if I am to be the leader that is required.” 

Kephra raised her hand. “Sir, what do you mean? Our scans have shown that the planet is nothing but a husk. A dead rock floating through space. What would you need our help for?”

Faustinius emitted a low, electronic chuckle. “Just because the world is dead does not mean we are completely safe. If we are truly alone on this planet, then the overreaction will be upon my shoulders. If we  _ aren’t _ … then something unknown and truly despicable must live down on that planet.”

He looked out the window at the grey rock far below. Something was down there. Something so important that the Omnissiah saw fit to sustain a transmission all the way through the Warp, just so that it would be found.

He wondered if that was why he felt like he was being watched.

  
  


* * *

Scarab 10482 emerged from its maintenance hole. A door had been breached in the Agrolekh Sector of the tomb, and it must be repaired. Skittering along the floors and walls of the complex, it arrived at the breach. It watched with its single glowing green eye as something entered. Red robes, metal and flesh combined into one, strange and primitive weapons.

These were not supposed to be here.

Using its small size, it hid in an alcove in the ceiling while it readied its transmitter. Scarab 10482 sent out a signal to its Spyder master, alerting it of the intruders. The Spyder analyzed the signal, and quickly broadcast a single-word message to any Canoptek machines that were capable of listening.

_̤͌t͝ͅim̖̓e͂͜ţ͑ỏ̦getṵ͘p̧̿_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Raef of Epsi's Hoard for editing this!
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y
> 
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ


	4. Dial 'M' for Mars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is assembled, and the mission begins.

Tech-Priest Jeremiah was concerned. 

He had been in the middle of a particularly fervent prayer session—asking the Omnissiah to guide him in his search for perfection—when he got a notification through the Noosphere, interrupting his benedictions and causing him no small amount of irritation. When he read the message to determine what was so Throne-damned important, his annoyance quickly gave way to curiosity.

**_Tech-Priest_Jeremiah_**

**_Orders_Issued_**

**_Mission_Type: Scouting**

**_Cohort_Size: 5 (Rho insisted on taking 4, I recommended half the cohort while the other half assist the Skitarii - Faustinius)**

**_Loadout: Standard_Explorator**

_“My Magos wishes us to lead a scouting party? Where are we? How long have I been praying that I did not notice traveling to another planet?”_ He got up from the small shrine he had constructed in his workroom, extinguishing the incense sticks and pouring the sacred machine oils into the recycler. He turned around and began walking towards the door, catching his foot on something. His artificial eyes widened as he suddenly flew backwards, landing on his ass and staring upwards at the ceiling. He began to silently lament his choice to retain the standard two arms and two legs configuration. Had he possessed multiple additional legs, he would not have tripped. Perhaps that would be his next augment. With a grunt of pain he sat up, looking around for what had nearly ended his career in a most inglorious way. After a moment, he spotted the offending object.

A small pneumo-wrench, with small drawings and symbols etched into it. Smiling faces and facsimiles of small animals.

_“Braine, when I see you next, I will shove this pneumo-wrench into one of your intake valves. I don’t care particularly which one,”_ he thought, anger boiling up inside him. Most tech-priests of his rank choose to excise the emotional centers of their brain so that they could do their work more effectively without distractions.

Jeremiah firmly believed that emotions—particularly anger—were far too fun to simply get rid of.

_“Later. The mission briefing comes first.”_ He looked at the data-slate built into his left arm, and looked through the cohort personnel files. 

_“Let’s see, I can only take four with me. π-Braine so I can get him back for cluttering up my workshop. Manarius in case brute strength is needed. I really don’t want to, but Remliez will be needed for any info-gathering ops. And Diamodies to round us all off. Perfect!”_ Jeremiah sent out the corresponding messages and began to head to the train station.

Most Ark Mechanius-class ships were large enough that a tram system was put in place so that travel from one end of the ship to the other didn’t take several hours.

The Caestus Metalican was double the normal size of an Ark Mechanicus.

Due in part to Faustinius’ influence in the Adeptus Mechanicus, in part to Videx’s links to the leadership in the Priesthood of Mars, and in part to Scaevola’s fealty to the technocrats of Stygies VIII, the Caestus Metalican had undergone multiple retrofits and remodels throughout her lengthy life. Lance batteries that would normally be out-of-place on a battleship, an expanded manufactorum, a Dark Age of Technology-era ground support package, and more had all gone into making her one of the finest ships in the Segmentium. Part of these upgrades was a mag-lift train line installed in the central spine of the ship, which ran from the enginarium to the ramming prow. 

Jeremiah approached one of the smaller cars, designed for only a non-augmented handful of people. The servitor fused with the driver's chair turned its legless torso around on a swivel and opened its mouth, revealing a vox unit. 

“Welcome, Tech-Priest Jeremiah. Destination?”

“Hangar 84-G, at best possible speed,” Jeremiah said, barely even acknowledging the creature. 

“Yes, most beneficent one.” The servitor turned around, the lights on the mag-car lighting up and the engine emitting its most holy sound. The tech-priest sat down and put himself in standby mode. He likely was not going to get a rest anytime soon, and wanted to take any he could now.

* * *

The ride was uneventful and when the servitor woke him up, he got out of the car and made his way to the hangar. In the middle was Magos Faustinius, four of his cohort, and servo-skull Reditus all gathered near an Arvus Lighter. Faustinius looked over at him and beckoned him to come closer. “Ah, young Jeremiah. Are these four the ones you have chosen to accompany you?” the venerable Magos asked.

“Yes, mighty Magos.” He pointed to the four gathered. “π-Braine, Manarius, Remliez, and Diamodies. The other five have been given over to Sub-Domina Kephra already, and are currently en-route to the planet’s surface with her Skitarii forces. They shall be investigating the ruins of St. Eckhardt’s Hope to determine what caused it to cease functioning.”

The towering wall of metal and robes known as Manarius spoke up first. “Mighty Magos, will the other five be joining us anytime soon?” his deep voice rumbled. The Tech-Priest may have been outranked by Faustinius, but he was nearly the size of a Kataphron due to his many strength-augments and frontal armor plating. His eyes were a barely visible glow behind a massive blast shield that covered his entire face. “Would we have any access to reinforcements?”

Faustinius looked upwards, trying to locate the eyes of Manarius before giving up and settling on his chest. “You will have access to combat-servitors, as well as any troops we can spare should the search of the colony prove fruitless.”

“Combat servitors? Ugh! At least give us something better than walking meat shields to explore with. If something _is_ down there, we’ll be sitting ducks!” exclaimed Braine, his body enshrouded by his robe and a shadow cast over his face by his hood. Two glowing white eyes were all that indicated that someone even occupied the clothing. 

“Have there been any additional Skitarii deployed to our objective? This seems too important to be sending us in first?” asked Remliez, adjusting the skull over his face. After finding the skull of an ancient terran predator known as a ‘din-saurus’ in one of his archeological digs in Terra’s underhive, the brilliant Tech-Priest had suffered a programing corruption that had left his speech processes altered drastically. Now, everything that came out of his mouth was a question. Even statements of fact were phrased as though they had a question mark.

“We shall not need them! The Omnissiah’s servants shall be able to overcome any and all obstacles! For we are—” Diamodies was interrupted by the venerable Magos smacking him with one of his mechadendrites. 

Faustinius’ hands rubbed his temples, as he clearly wanted them to leave. “To answer your question Remliez, there has been a small squad of Skitarii deployed to the transmission location, just to scout it out. However, due to some interference—most likely the fact that they are underground—they have not been answering vox-hails nor Noospheric communications. A secondary objective of yours is to locate them and send them back to the Caestus Metalican for re-training. Any more questions?” Remliez raised one of his hands and opened his skull-mask’s mouth to speak. “Except for you, Remliez!” Faustinius barked.

Remliez closed his mouth and put his hand down. 

“In that case, get aboard the Lighter. Reditus shall be accompanying you to the surface, and shall serve as a link between you on the surface and us in orbit. With him acting as a relay, no amount of rock should interfere with our operations. You will be down on the surface for the duration of the mission, so keep him close.”

“YES MAGOS,” the cohort responded with only a small amount of inflection from Remliez. The five Tech-Priests and the servo-skull boarded the ship, which took off and began to head to the surface. 

* * *

Faustinius watched them leave in the ship, glad to be rid of them. He trusted them all with his life, and was glad they were under his command, but their energy was just too much to handle in person for any length of time. The questions from Remliez, the childish petulance from π-Braine, the imposing juggernaut of Manarius, and the bombastic speeches from Diamodies all wore on him. Only Jeremiah seemed to be well-adjusted, and even that was a miracle. He still had unaugmented emotional centers, essentially a baseline human brain in red robes and blessed steel. 

**_Cohort: Dispatched**

**_Mission_Start: True**

**_Return_to_Bridge**

Faustinius turned around and began to walk back to the elevatorium. His emotional cores were experiencing dread, curiosity, and excitement—he chose to experience the later two—while he exited the hangar and strode the hallway. _“Something big is going to happen. I just do not know what._

_“The possibilities are too numerous to ponder. I am… excited.”_

* * *

Jeremiah began looking around the ship. Sparsely lit besides small prayer candles, barrenly decorated besides prayer seals and icons of worship, it seemed more like a coffin than a shuttle. He quickly quashed the thought as he turned to Manarius who—due to his massive size—had to take up most of the cargo hold as opposed to a seat. “Odds that the planet is truly dead?”

“Seven to one. If something ever appears too easy, it is,” came the response, Manarius’ voice shaking the entire shuttle as he spoke. “I know Diamodies is taking point, so I won’t even bother asking who wants to go first.”

“He who goes first gets first pick of the glory!” Diamodies said, twirling his power axe around in his hand. “You four will just have to follow up behind me! Don’t worry, I’ll save you something!” His vox unit played a recording of humans laughing at something, and he set his axe back down. 

“What do you all think is down there? I am excited?” asked Remliez, fiddling with his pistol and axe, his eyes glowing bright green behind his saurus-bone mask.

“Knowing MY luck, I’ll get stuck under a cave-in while you all discover some incredibly important, and long-lost piece of technology. Maybe even have my legs broken again like on Orior Prime, have you guys drag me back to the ship with a cargo-hauler,” said Braine, white eyes squinting in his approximation of a joking expression. 

Jeremiah looked out the rear window at the Caestus Metalican, which was rapidly disappearing as the Arvus traveled at supersonic speed. _“Machine God, protect us,”_ he thought as the ship entered the atmosphere. _“I shall need it.”_

* * *

Skitarii α-27-Med was running for his life. Or rather, he was crawling, his legs having crumbled to dust a few seconds ago.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission until the Tech-Priests got here. When they found the massive metal door, they had assumed it was of human make and wandered in. The ten of them weren’t even supposed to see combat on this planet.

And now his squad was dead.

As he crawled down the hallway, he felt his motive reactor give out. He slumped down onto the ground, lying on his back as he could hear the metallic footsteps get closer. _Thump thump thump_ they went as they got closer, until they stopped just out of his line of sight. He looked down towards where he had come from.

A visage of death, with his squad’s blood still covering it, stared back.

His eyes widened in terror as a dull green glow appeared, getting brighter and brighter as the milliseconds passed before all ceased and the world fell away around him.

* * *

  
  
  


The deathly warriors gathered around the intruder’s body, now rapidly crumbling to dust as its molecular bonds came apart and withered. One sent a message back to Agrolekh command.

I̩̎nt̠͗rud̘̑e̖̍r̥͌s͖̋ ̖̄d͈͋ea̲̓lt ẃ͍̾͟it͉̃̇ͅh.̞̉͒͟ ͇Be̺͒g̖̈į̬̓̿n̐͢ ̟̃Re̼̊an̓͢i̫̓ma̱͠t̰͠i̲͛o̲͝n ̪̈P̨r̹͝ò̦t͇̚o̖͛c̗͊ő͎l̺̔s̝̈.͍͐ ̗̒

̗̒Fŏ̜r ͔͐S̮̉z͙̄aŗ͕͆͂ḙ̄gon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Raef of Epsi's Hoard for editing this!
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y
> 
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ


	5. Dust to Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The structure is breached. Look to your souls. Steel yourself for what must be done.

The Arvus Lighter touched down upon the barren surface of Silva Tenebris. No one was around to hear it land, so no one noticed something very, very wrong about its landing. The landing made a very peculiar noise, given that it had landed on what was supposedly dirt.

The noise of metal scraping against metal.

Jeremiah and his cohort waited patiently until the rear drop ramp had descended before calmly and peacefully walking onto the surface of the planet.

They didn’t notice the odd noise either.

Jeremiah motioned for the group to stop at the entrance. “Reditus, connect to the Caestus Metalican. The Magi wish to monitor our progress directly.”

“A̧̅f̣͞fḯ̟r͍̂m̡a̠̕t̖̺ȋ̪v̪͔̒̈e,͓̻͋͂ ͎̤̎͞Tech-̺̆P̟̅ŗ͌ị͇͗̔e͚̋s͕̝̽̆t̮͍̿͐ ̦̙͐̇Jẹ͘r̼̻̽e̪͠m̠͇̽̂ȋ̥͉̅ả͉h̯̀. ̪͝Ċ͟ö̺̺̕ň͜nec͕͂t̬͑i̬̋ń̰̂͢g̛̪ ṯ͈̍̊o̤̯̊̅ ̯̙͑͠Ca͕͑e̠̝̾̓s̭̉͒ͅtṵ̤̚̚s̝͂ ̡̣̇͞M̙̕et͔̑al͓͐i̯͕͊͠ç̈an͙̹̓͡.”

“This will take a while,” Jeremiah barked at the cohort, pointing to the ruined metal door in the middle distance, “so make sure the door is secured. If the Skitarii aren’t anywhere nearby, we need to be prepared for whatever took them out."

* * *

The Magi sat around the central hololith erupted into exultations of joy and prayers to the Machine God when the image of the cohort snapped into view above the circular device. A vid-feed, as seen through the auspex and augurs of Reditus, showed the cohort as well as a large area around them in faint blue light suspended in the air.

“Ț͔͛̿e̖͖̿s̼͠t̯͂i̦̳̿̊ǹ͍͔̎g c͛͜ȍ̦̼̉n̩͑në͖ct̹̏̃ͅi̥̅ő̩ñ͉.̦̓”

“Connection confirmed. Caestus Metalican reads signal loud and clear,” Faustinius said, tapping his fingers against the arms of the command throne in anticipation. “Cohort, begin your advance.”

“Yes, mighty Magos!” the image of Jeremiah replied. The cohort readied their weapons and advanced through the door and into the cave, with Reditus following a short distance behind.

* * *

Jeremiah followed behind Diamodies, taking in the sights of smooth metal walls and ancient, crumbling archways. Remliez was behind him, furiously mumbling questions to himself and printing out foot after foot of parchment from the auto-quill on his shoulder.

Whatever he had mentally prepared himself for, this was not it.

The cave looked like a burial complex or tomb from human feudal worlds. Stark and barren architecture, right angles and smooth curves. This place reeked of stale, dusty antiquity. Its once-stern architecture was littered with debris and tarnished with the patina of age. Every so often, a fissure appeared in the dark structure and cast light on cracked and tarnished metal. 

This place was once brutalist and oppressive, designed to crush the spirits of all that arrived here. Even as the cohort walked through the ruins, it was no less impressive now. However, rather than invoking a merciless guiding intelligence, this place only spoke of decline and death.

Jeremiah activated his comm-bead. “Are you seeing this, sir? This seems far too alien to have been built by the colonists, but I’ve never seen xenos buildings like this before.”

Kephra’s voice responded, “Going by our fragmentary information, it looks like a buried tomb structure.’”

Faustinius cut in, “Then the sword of the Omnissiah is ready to fall. We deploy in force immediately. The Skitarii checkpoint is just inside the structure. Meet up with them there.”

Scaevola added eagerly, “Let secrets of this world = 0”

Remliez spoke up first. “Magos, where are the Skitarii and servitors? Shouldn’t they be greeting us?” The rest of the cohort looked at each other nervously as they realized what the words implied. 

“Yes, young Remliez. With the knowledge that this is a Xenos structure, it is likely that the Skitarii are dead, and the servitors either dead or still on their charging plates.”

“I counsel caution, Magos Faustinius. Our purpose here should be to destroy the threat of the alien, not to bask in its blasphemy. Aphorisms of the Logic-Saints, 7.91: ‘In the presence of the xenos lies the invisible miasma of corruption.’”

“Destruction is not possible from orbit, Videx. The structure is too deeply buried. And Scaevola, I have no intention of plundering whatever trinkets I can find from this place.” At that statement, Jeremiah and the cohort were all confused. If they were not here to destroy, nor to study, then why were they all down here? 

Manarius looked at π-Braine. “Braine, what do you think? Want to keep the bet from earlier? Still think this will be uneventful?” 

Braine couldn’t see Manarius’ face, not truly, but he could have sworn that his faceplate was smirking at him.

* * *

Kephra turned to Faustinius. “The Explorator unit of Tech-Priests is inside the tomb and ready to proceed, Magos. There’s no telling what we will find. Several transports of Skitarii are enroute now. My men will hold the perimeter in case of the unexpected.”

“Excellent. It would be folly to commit the whole of our manpower to the unknown, especially with the potential of a moral threat that the Skitarii are less able to understand.”

Kephra nodded. “I have the greatest respect for my Skitarii, but they are still far from the ascension that a Tech-Priest affords.” She knew that, despite all their armor and augmentations, her Skitarii were still just human soldiers.

‘I agree, Sub-Domina. I shall lead the mission in person from the command throne. Servo-Skull Reditus shall be my eyes and ears on the ground. Omnissiah be praised, we’re going in.” With that, he hit a button on the throne. 

Suddenly, all of the windows on the bridge closed, and the lights above dimmed. The room was bathed in pale blue light as the hololith’s projection grew, filling up the room with a massive map of the area. Scaevola’s photoreceptors widened as the map filled itself in with the data taken by the cohort on the ground, while Videx gazed on in silent prayer as he pondered the miracle of the Omnissiah in front of him. _“If we have such wonders on our side,”_ he thought to himself, _“these xenos cannot overcome our most holy mission. Surely they must know this, and despair.”_

_“Surely.”_

* * *

  
  
  


The cohort advanced through the brutalist tunnels, scanning for anything at all that could show hostile intent. Their phosphor pistols were charged and ready, their power axes arching with electricity and blessed purpose.

Yet as the meters turned to kilometers, nothing appeared. Just a singular long corridor with nothing to tell of what happened to the Skitarii. No scorch marks from flamers, no impact holes from radium rifles, not even a scratch from a power knife. No bodies, xenos or human. Just dust.

Dust as far as the eye could see, covered the ground. Undisturbed save the cohort’s footprints.

The nothingness was so nerve-wracking that when Jeremiah saw the pre-fabricated buildings from the Skitarii’s checkpoint in the far distance he nearly shouted out in joy, eager for the comfort of familiar surroundings. He quickly composed himself before sending a message to the Caestus Metalican. “Attention Magos, we have located the Skitarii checkpoint. No sign of any of the fireteam nor any servitors. Where should we go from here?”

The vox caster embedded in Reditus crackled to life with the voice of Magos Faustinius. “There is a large room down this corridor, but investigate the checkpoint. The combat servitors were in one of those buildings, and the charging station should still be intact. Look around, see what you can find. The Omnissiah watches over you.”

Jeremiah agreed before cutting the connection. He turned his head to face his squad. “Manarius, Rem, on me. You two, keep an eye out for any movement.”

“YES, ALPHA!” they shouted back. 

Reaching the metal door of the pre-made building, Manarius took his position. Hydraulic presses and spring-loaded weights tightened, building pressure in his right arm, until he let swing.

It takes around a hundred joules of energy to completely destroy a steel door, even more than that if the steel is alloyed with ceremite.

Manarius could output considerably more than a hundred joules of energy. 

The door offered almost no resistance, caving so quickly it tore itself off its hinges. Crumpling inwards, it hit the floor with a loud _clang_ , kicking up a large cloud of dust. _“Wait, dust?”_

Jeremiah inspected the floor of the storage building. It had only been in place for a few hours, but there was a large amount of dust covering it, even large piles several inches tall scattered around the floor. “Rem, get up here. Tell me what the hell this dust is. Is it toxic?”

“Will I find out?” The skull-faced tech-priest walked into the building, knelt at one of the piles, took out a small cogitator and a glass tube, and scooped up some of the dust. Loading the tube into the machine, he typed some command into the miniature keypad, staring at the various lights and noises it emitted. Eventually, one large light lit up bright red. “Is this human?” 

Taking a moment to translate from Remleiz’s question-speech, Jeremiah was hit by a wave of horror. 

_“These were the Skitarii.”_

“Reditus!!” he called out, with the servo-skull floating inside to respond. “Patch me through to Sub-Dominia Kephra.”

“Ä̘t͎̓ ̡̍o̟͆ń͜ĉ̼̑͟e̹̓,̤͗̊ͅ ̢̾Tec̦̅h͖͠-̘̈́P̟̄r̰̅ĩ͎͎è̪s̲̔t̘͊̂͢ ̙̻̈́͠J̺͛er̟̃ę̛m͖̂i̙̊ah͓͐.̫͡” Reditus’ vox unit emitted static as he began contacting the ship in high orbit. 

After a few moments, Kephra’s voice came forth, “Tech-Priest Jeremiah, have you located any of my Skitarii?”

“Technically, yes, Sub-Domina. They have been killed, some sort of disintegration. Nothing left but piles of dust on the floor.”

Back on the ship, Kephra’s shoulders fell. “I see. What about the servitors? They could be useful if they are not damaged beyond repair.”

“We’re actually looking for them ri—” 

Jeremiah was interrupted by a very loud Manarius. “Found them! Five in all, not a scratch on their fleshy faces. They’ll work as a meat shield quite well!” 

Jeremiah smiled, and turned back to Reditus. “We found them. Five total.”

“Only five? There were more than thirty—” she cut herself off “—that should be fine. The mapping signals Reditus is broadcasting indicates that this structure isn’t very large. Those five should last you. Thank you for confirming the deaths of my men. May they merge with the Omnissiah.”

“May they merge with the Omnissiah,” responded Jeremiah. He knew that the prayer didn’t help the piles of dust that lay mere feet from him, but their souls were likely thankful for the gesture. He allowed himself a few moments to reflect before he steeled his mind. He had a job to do. “Cohort! Activate the servitors and let’s get moving! There’s a room ahead, and I want to see if we can get some payback!”

“YES ALPHA!!” came the response, and the five Tech-Priests—now with five servitors as backup—headed down the corridor. The map Reditus was providing showed that there was a room up ahead, with a potential for hostile xenos contacts.

Payback would be swift.

* * *

Magos Faustinius’ eye widened, and his auspex zoomed out in order to encompass more of what he was seeing. A large, green crystalline structure, many meters in height. Even filtered through the pict-feed aboard the bridge, Magos Faustinius felt—small. Yet even then, he began searching through his memories.

**Locate_Similar_Memories/Images/Places**

**Similarities_Found**

**Match_Probability: 78%**

Faustinius was the first to speak up. “These Xeno hieroglyphs, I know of them.”

Reditus’ voice crackled through the recording, allowing those on the bridge to hear him. “T̥̞̂̎ḧ̬́ey̧͞ ͇̇a̠̱͒͗r̩̋e͜͝ my ̙̳̈̄u̱͂n̠̂ḑ̀ò͔ę̍r̪̤̄̾s͔̎.̟̠̄̎ ̳̯N͕͡ecr̮͇̍̕on̲̾ş͌!̗̌ M͍̎ŷ͜st͎͊ē̮r̘͉͒̋i̻ơ̻̗̏u͕̖̿̄s̜͆.̧̒ ̨͖͑̕Î͍ll-̭̚rȅ̮sē͢a͑ͅr̠̔ch̲͋ed̬́.̱̏ ̟̝͑͝C͛͟ō̲̤͑r̫̂r̠͝upt̯͔̔͝i̞̩͛v͙̑ẽ͙.̖͊”

Young Tiresus waved to his former teacher, getting Faustinius’ attention. “This could be a rare sample of the Necron knowledge, Magos! We have barely any knowledge of it. Collecting data from this obelisk could move our understanding of the knowledge ahead for the first time in centuries.”

At this, Videx spun to face Faustinius, red in the face from righteous indignation. “This is a work of the alien, Magos. Codex Fulminatus 83.12: ‘Show caution and scorn in all things.’” 

A metal hand slammed on the arm of the command throne, silencing the room. “I am in charge here, not you. You are here to advise my decisions. Should you prove incapable of this, you are more than welcome to retire from the bridge, back to your normal stations.” He then turned to the hololith. “Cohort, secure the room against potential dangers. We will send in a work-servitor team after the mission is completed.”

* * *

“Affirmative Magos,” Jeremiah said, pointing to various places around the periphery of the room. Suddenly, his rad sensor went hot, his eyes widening as he saw the needle travel quickly and dangerously into the red zone. Nearly as quickly as it happened, the radiation dissipates, with the large obelisk opening up to reveal a smooth black substance. 

He received a transmission from Kephra first. “We’re detecting a massive energy spike from inside the tomb. Thank the Omnissiah no one was close enough to be hit by the radiation, but … something’s happening in there. Something huge.”

Rho’s voice suddenly shouted over Kephra’s concern. “Noctilith source detected. Also known as ‘Blackstone’! Request collection, immediate. Do not wait for servitors. Collect now.”

Jeremiah looked over to Diamodies, who merely shrugged his shoulders before walking over to the strange material. After determining that it was safe, he shouted, “Are you all scared of a rock? Get over here!” 

Not wanting to be called a coward, even jokingly, the cohort ran over to him while the servitors guarded the entrance. 

π-Braine was the first to speak up. “Well, it certainly lives up to its name, right? Can’t get much more descriptive than ‘Blackstone,’ can you?” Manarius gave a small chuckle, but the rest of the cohort, especially Remliez, was far too engrossed in the strange material. The saurus-faced man was mumbling excitedly to himself while printing out sheet after sheet of questions from his auto-quill. 

“Do I have space in my pack for this ‘Blackstone’? I do?” he asked, shoving the cube of shimmering rock into his storage pack. Jeremiah could have sworn that he heard some type of animal cry out when he opened the pack, but he decided against asking Rem. Remliez was a strange man, there was no doubt about it. But he was also useful beyond measure.

Sometimes you just have to put up with insanity in order to complete the mission.

“Jeremiah? We are ready to move out?”

Jeremiah let out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. “Yes Rem, we’re moving out. COHORT! Grab you shit, we’re heading out.” He began walking towards the hallway leading to the next series of rooms, with his men following just behind him.

Walking down the corridor, Jeremiah was suddenly shoved to the side. Bracing for a potential attack, he opened his eyes and saw that it was just Diamodies. “By the Motive Force, WHAT WAS THAT FOR DIAMODIES??!!” he screamed before seeing that Diamodies was extending his hand to help him up.

“Two things. One: I refuse to let you take point. I shall be the first one into the breach, and the glory that comes with it.” Jeremiah took his hand and helped himself up. “And two,” Diamodies continued, “if there’s a trap in the next room, I couldn’t live with myself if I let my Alpha take a wound that I could have saved him from. So I am taking point. End of story.”

  
  


Jeremiah smiled internally. Diamodies may be a glory hog, but he cared genuinely for the team. Even though some of the other five were better fighters, he felt Diamodies was a better fit for the team. He was glad to have his men beside him here.

_“The five of us are going to send these ‘Necrons’ screaming into the void.”_

_“So help me, Omnissiah. We will crush them under our boots.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Raef of Epsi's Hoard for editing this!
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y
> 
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ


	6. Digging up the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons, even death may die. - H.P. Lovecraft

The Omnissiah hadn’t helped yet, and Jeremiah was getting anxious.

He hadn’t known he was even emotionally capable of getting anxious due to his augments, yet here he was, jumping at shadows in yet another empty room in a series of empty rooms and corridors. As he opened another small closet-like structure with nothing in it, he wondered if the architecture in this place was intentional.

Maybe this place looked like a graveyard because it _was_ a graveyard, empty for eons and sitting idly. 

Then he remembered the dust that had once been the vanguard squad and the blackstone hooked up to a radiation trap, and quickly dispelled the notion. Something was here, that something was dangerous, and that something didn’t like the fact that the Imperium was going to kick down its doors.

So why was it hiding?

Looking over at his cohort, he saw that they were just as nervous as he was. Braine was still cracking his horrendously awful—and borderline heretical in some cases—jokes with the rest of the men, but they had morphed from genuine humor into an effort to fill the oppressive silence. 

Remliez was muttering questions to himself as usual, but his voice had an almost _frantic_ inflection to it, as though he was trying to banish the darkness surrounding them though words alone. 

Manarius, ever the stoic, was continuing on as though nothing was wrong. But Jeremiah had known the man for decades; there was nothing he could hide from him at this point. The way his shoulders slightly tensed up, the humming of his motivator, even the way his face-shield was opened slightly so as to give him better vision. The mountain of a Tech-Priest that was Manarius was _afraid_ , and that did little to comfort Jeremiah’s worries that something horrible was going to happen.

Even the unflappable Diamodies was showing cracks in his attitude. His boastful remarks about the cohort and the glory of the Mechanicus had given way to angry insults to the empty corridors, taunting anything that could hear to ‘stop being a cowardly xenos and die honorably.’ Diamodies was never one for insults, preferring actions to words, and so to see him so desperate to fight was genuinely unsettling.

**Cohort_Stress_Levels: 65%**

**Combat_Effectiveness: Suboptimal**

“ _This isn’t good.”_ thought Jeremiah. “ _At this rate, any enemies we do find will have an advantage before we even see them. I’ve got to—”_

“Ạ̀t͚̒t͚͑e̬̚n̙̑t̞̺̃͡iǒ̦n ̡̠̽͑cô̟ḫ̫͂̈́o̮̓̏ͅr̳̯̽̾t̙̿,̲̈ my̰͘ ̺̿m̡̽a̔͟p̢p̛̺i̱͒n̰̔g̘̋ r͋ͅo̬ŭ̬t̗̔i̯͗n̢̞̋̚e̛͔s̼̠̄̃ ͍͠ḩ͈͒̋a̞̚ve detë̞̅͜ç̀t͔̅e̗̋d̖̃̂͟ ̭̂a̩̒ ̜̋ma̫͑ss̆ͅi͈̎v̧͔̽͡e̻͊ do̦͑or̛͙̩͌w̻̽ḁ̩̿̐y̳͈̽͡ ̣̿a͉͡he̦̕ǎ̟d̥̀.̦̀ ͎͡Ü͖̓͢n̟̏l͔͊̂͜i̲͒ke ̡̬͊̍t̙h̭̎e̬͛ p̟͈͐̆r̲̊ȩ͗v̼̜̿̚iou͌͟͠ͅs ̗̔o͍͛ne̱̓s̭̕,̤͑ ̬̓̔͢i̳̓t͙̄ i̩͔̋͠s̜̥̐̔ ̩͉̄̄c͒͜lo̡̼͐̎s̳̽e͉̼̽͝d̯̅.̬͗”

The sudden interjection of Reditus shook Jeremiah out of his thoughts. If there was a door that was closed, it stood to reason that something had closed it. He smirked to himself, thankful he still had enough flesh on his face to do so.

“ _Maybe we’ll get some action after all._ ”

The news that there was something other than a further series of barren corridors to look forward to did wonders for the cohort’s morale. Their pace quickened and in a few minutes, they were staring at the doorway in question.

The door to the manufactorium back aboard the Caestus Metalican was the largest any of the five had ever laid eyes (or auspex, to be more fitting) on, large enough for a titan to walk through with ease. Several hundred meters wide, it stretched for miles above the floor of the central corridor it opened up into. A feat of engineering in its own right, it was proof that humanity was destined to rule over all things. Even their doorways were fit for gods to walk through.

This door was much larger. Certainly in height, if not in width. It looked as though a moon-sized sword had been stabbed into the rock, with the wound filled in with metal. In comparison, an almost comically-small control panel was adjacent on the ground, a simple block of metal and rock with a large green circle on top.

“Shall I open this door?” asked Remliez as he walked over to the console. He looked over at his partners expectantly. “Is this all right with you?” 

π-Braine laughed. “This is one of those times when you don’t need to ask permission, Rem. Sure though, go on ahead.”

“Thank you?” Rem nodded, and placed his hand on the glowing green circle. The light pulsed once before shutting off, and the door began to open. The cohort was surprised at how quiet the damn things were; they had expected an opening mechanism this large to make some amount of noise, but the door just opened without a peep.

Hesitantly, Diamodies walked the group inside. A small room lay on the other side, but a welcome change was that this one had _things_ inside it.

Decorating the walls and in various places in the middle of the room were large rectangular metal boxes. Jeremiah drew a mental comparison to the sarcophagi that Imperial Saints were often interred in. Made out of some metal on the top and on three sides, the assumed front of the boxes was some sort of cage, long metal bars reaching from the floor to the top of the narrow box with an almost blinding green light shining from behind them. Others were in worse shape, the bars broken or snapped, with the light inside having died long ago. 

Braine was the last person to enter the room. The moment he crossed the threshold the cohort felt a strange rumbling sensation in the ground. Jeremiah looked around the room and swore to himself when he noticed the door closing, trapping them all inside. 

Manarius scoffed. “Well that’s just great. Anyone happen to bring a melta charge? Cause I don’t think I brought enough Phosphor ammo to break down that door.”

Diamodies was about to answer when one of the sarcophagi began to move. The metal bars over the light retracted into the floor while the light dimmed considerably, revealing a humanoid figure standing upright inside the box. Superficially similar to a human skeleton, it had far too large shoulder blades and not enough space in between its ribs. Its skull-visage face was far too narrow and sleek to be of a human, with a cylindrical rifle-like object propped up against the wall of its coffin-like home, it looked like a metallic statue of death itself.

Until it opened its eyes.

Piercing green lights shone from its previously empty sockets, glowing brightly in the dim light of the room. With the verdant orbs locking on to Jeremiah, he experienced something he had never felt, had never known he was _capable_ of feeling with all of his enhancements and training.

Pure. Primal. Animalistic. **_Fear_ **.

The same green light began emanating from the spaces in its pseudo-ribcage, and around the symbol in the center of its chest. With the groan of flexing metal, it grabbed the metal cylinder and hefted it up, holding it like a rifle. A beam of brilliant green-white light shot from the base of the device to a sort of focusing lens at the end of the machine. An obviously sharp axeblade hung from beneath the lens, most likely for use as a bayonet. It looked at the cohort with the same apparent attitude an Astartes might look at a worm. Not contempt, for contempt required you to feel something. No, this robotic creature regarded them as dirt. This creature would not stop until they were all dead.

Then other sarcophagi in the room began to open. 

* * *

Kephra looked at the figure on the hololith with disdain. “Necrons. Rehsak did encounter them after all. No wonder he didn’t make it off this planet. Every datum we have suggests that they are as deadly as they are inhuman.” 

Addressing the cohort, she spoke gain. “Follow standard combat engagement protocols. This shall be done by the book.”

“By your word, Sub-Dominia,” they responded, quickly moving behind a collapsed pillar for cover while the Necrons continued to awaken. 

The pict-view from Reditus began focusing on one of the closer Necrons, a red sphere appearing in the upper-left portion of the projection. Reditus was apparently sending this recording to the ship’s cogitator bank for preservation and study. 

“Xen̬͈̈o̳͔͐͞s͇̫͂ for̮̻͊͠m ̪͊d͔̔ȅ̬̟̈tect̡̋e̛͙͘͟d͍̹̎̏!” spat Reditus as information readouts began appearing all around the projection. Height, estimated weight, estimated mineral breakdown, damage from the potshots the cohort were taking, any details that could be gleaned from the visual contact were being endlessly speculated upon.

Rho took a look at one of his dataslates before speaking. “Confirmed. Reditus’ cogitators now function for synthetic forms.”

Scaevola looked to be nearly salivating from behind her rebreather implant. “[[Overwhelming Excitement]] Finally! We can study this <standard construct> [Necron Warrior] Weak spots detected; =none. +concerning.” 

Tiresus looked at the rune on the chest of the Necron warrior with intense scholarly interest. “I wonder about the symbol emblazoned on their torsos. It mus—”

“Do not underestimate!! Gauss weaponry, highly volatile!!” interrupted Captrix, shoving Tiresus behind him as if to protect him from the projection. 

Faustinius stroked his chin with one of his mechadendrites, deep in thought. “This is true. I’ve heard our brothers and sisters of the Mechanicus have lost their lives trying to solve the mysteries of these Xenos weapons.” He shifted his attention to the cohort. “Approach with caution.”

Scaevola bowed her head in respect. “It is also [[[double checking cogitators]]] widely-known that they will +self-repair +reanimate or +reconstruct themselves if given the time to do so. Wounds that would instantly kill a Skitarii are the equivalent to a class C graze to Necrons.”

When Faustinius heard the cohort acknowledge the new information and sprint to a new piece of cover, he began to sink back into his thoughts. _“If memory serves, there will be no small amount of these abominations infesting the lower reaches of the planet. I just hope that it is either the Necron equivalent of an outpost, or is dormant—I am unsure we could deal with a fully awakened Tomb World, regardless of the firepower we have at our disposal.”_

**Estimating Probabilities:**

**Necron_Outpost: 12.5%**

**Necron_Tomb_World(Dormant): 50%**

**Necron_Tomb_World(Awakened): 32.5%**

**Crash_Landed_Necron_Tomb_Ship: 5%**

**Odds_Of_Victory:** **Uncertain**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG! With midterms, work, and the 'rona all at once, it took me nearly a month to write a mere 1.7k words. I'll try and update this more frequently in the future, but no promises.
> 
> Also HOLY SHIT 90 hits!? Thank you!
> 
> Thank you Raef of Epsi's Hoard for editing this!
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y
> 
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ


	7. Fire and Flame, We are One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah and the others are pinned down! How will they escape?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that whole thing about me updating more frequently... yeah that was wishful thinking. More than a month between updates isn't good, but there's nothing much else I can do until college ends.
> 
> On the bright side, I *have* been asked to translate/coauthor Devil is in the Details, so that one will update much more frequently with the help. Go check it out!
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y  
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ

“ _ Well, this could have gone better,”  _ Jeremiah thought as yet another green bolt of light whizzed past his head.

He and the cohort had taken cover behind a fallen support pillar to defend themselves from the onslaught of gauss beams crisscrossing the room. It was tall enough to ensure that the cohort wouldn't get atomized and thick enough that it could block the firing arcs of the Necrons in the room around them. They couldn’t shoot through it, no matter how many Necrons there were.

But neither could the cohort. 

Any assumptions the tech-priests had of the Necrons being mindless automata went right out the airlock as soon as they had taken cover. The two Necron Warriors in the back of the room were laying down suppressive fire while the other two were slowly marching around the perimeter of the room. If they couldn’t do anything meaningful, they’d be flanked and pinned down in a minute or two.

And these creatures seemed to never die. One of the Necrons laying down cover fire had been knocked flat on its back by a glancing Phosphor pistol hit twice now and had simply gotten back up after a short while, with only two scorch marks to show it had been hit at all.

Jeremiah began rapidly looking for a possible escape from this situation. His eyes frantically darted around the room, forming a number of potential plans.

**Estimating_Combat_Plan_Effectiveness:**

**Rush_for_Glory: 10%_Effectiveness. Likely_Casualties. Do_Not_Attempt.**

**Stay_in_Cover: 10%_Effectiveness. Likelyhood_of_Flanking=Too_High. Do_Not_Attempt.**

**Trust_in_the_Omnissiah: 80% Effectiveness. His_Glory_Overcomes_All.**

Jeremiah knew what had to be done. He whispered the Ninth Beseechment for Victory Over the Vile Xenos under his breath and turned to his huddled cohort.

“Manarius, Diamodies. When I give the signal, run out of cover and engage the flanking Necrons in honorable melee combat. Your power axes should cleave through them no problem. Remliez, Braine. You start laying into those suppressing Necrons. If they hit the ground, DO NOT STOP FIRING! Are we clear?”

The cohort took an agonizing second to look at each other, and then at Jeremiah. Those that still had them gritted their teeth and they locked their determined auspex augmetics on their leader. This man had gotten them through a hundred campaigns; what difference was this one?

“Yes, Alpha!” (“Yes, Alpha?” from Remliez. It was the thought that counted.)

Jeremiah held up three fingers. Two. One.

“ATTACK!”

Remliez peeked over the top of the pillar, a Phosphor Blast Pistol in either hand, his mechadendrites keeping his power axe secure across his back. Normal, unaugmented humans consider dual-wielding a weapon to be counter-productive, given that the human brain cannot split its attention evenly between two different targets.

Remliez was not a normal human. Hell, he wasn’t a normal  _ techpriest _ . The massive lizard skull attached to his face was testament to that. 

His two eye-clusters tracked the Necrons independently, and he let loose with the pistols. The blazing blue spheres left the barrels at a respectable fraction of lightspeed, globing onto the Necrons’ exoskeletons and sizzling on the armor. The Necrons, seemingly unphased by having multiple miniature suns attach themselves to their ‘skin,’ corrected their aim to focus on the skull-faced annoyance shooting very bright lights at them.

The nanosecond pause in their shooting to readjust their aim was all Braine needed to bullseye the left one in the head with his Radium Rifle. The highly-irradiated bullet impacted the faceplate of the Necron, crumpling it like so much aluminum in a hydraulic press. The entire right side of its skull caved in like a spoon had scooped it out.

It wouldn’t be a permanent wound. It wouldn’t even last more than a few seconds given the Necron’s self-repair protocols.

But it would be enough. 

With the incoming fire suddenly halved, the remaining Necron suddenly found itself under a fusillade of Radium bullets and Phosphor blasts. Blobs of blue-hot plasma melted its exterior, hyper-dense irradiated bullets punctured its interior. This continued until it, too, fell to the ground.

The pair refused to let up. They could see the metal repairing in front of their eyes. They needed to keep the creatures down and let loose with everything they had.. Blast after blast, shot after shot, they turned the Necrons into rapidly healing swiss cheese.

The removal of the suppression gave Jeremiah, Manarius, and Diomedes the opening that they needed. Vaulting over the pillar and rapidly closing the distance to the flanking Necron force, they brought their power axes to bear. One-hundred pounds of electrically-charged cutting and crushing force at each of their fingertips, they charged into melee range.

Manarius swung first. Given that he was much bulkier than the other tech-priests, his axe was different from the others. Double-headed, nearly two hundred pounds, and coated in a mutagenic acid that could melt through the armor of a Leman Russ, it was a sight to behold as he swung it at nearly seventy mph at the Necron Warrior that had mere milliseconds before been in the process of flanking them. He brought it down.

The axehead made contact, slicing through the heavily armored Necrodermis body of the Necron like a hot knife through Guard-issue calcium chew. Splitting apart the neck joints, the acid seeping forth from the injector ports and ripping through internal wiring, catching briefly on the shoulder plate before ripping through it and the arm beneath it. The Necron’s head, shoulder, left arm, and most of its neck came tumbling to the ground.

The pieces hit the ground and began glowing a pale green. Manarius saw them becoming translucent, then transparent, before they and the rest of the Necron corpse vanished entirely. Looking up, he saw that Jeremiah and Diamodies were watching a similar thing happen to their downed necron. A glow from the corner of his FOV cone indicated that the ones being peppered by Rem and Braine were going away as well. Soon, it was just the four of them in the room, with Reditus coming down from his hiding place in the ceiling. 

Jeremiah looked at his men (his Omnissiah-damned, wonderful men) before activating his comm-bead to the Caestus Metalican.

“Magi, we believe that the targets are neutralized. Confirm with auger arrays?”

There was a terrible few tense seconds before Sub-Dominia Kephra spoke back. “Confirmed, Alpha. All Xenos life-forms purged.” 

The sigh of relief that the cohort made echoed around the now-empty chamber. Combat modes disengaged, weapons switched themselves off, and muscles untensed. 

Braine squinted his glowing eyes in an approximation of a smile before turning to Manarius. “Hey Manny,” he said, “I hope Rem hadn’t wanted to AXE them any questions.”

It was a terrible joke. It wasn’t funny. It was wholly inappropriate for a situation where they had nearly all died.

It took nearly five minutes for Jeremiah to restore composure to the cohort, with Diamodies actually lying on the ground in pain from laughing so hard. Even Remliez was laughing in his strange, questioning way.

* * *

After the cohort had stopped laughing, they began looking around the room for any potential intelligence on the nature of their foes. 

Pointing on the hololith display to one of the sarcophagi in the room, Scaevola began to speak, “[[Hypothesis Formulation]] Sarcophagi/Coffins/Burial Places. Structural purpose designation: Tomb.”

She was about to say something else before Videx overrode her command frequency. “Burn it to the ground!” he said while glaring at the Tech-Aquisitor. “It is worth pausing in our advance through this unholy structure to do harm to the Xenos Abominations.”

The cohort sent back a confirmation message before opening fire on the upright coffin structures. The structures seemed to be all but impervious to small-arms fire, but components of the strange Necron material the creations were made from were stripped away. These were gathered in a corner of the room and a locator beacon placed so a team of transport-servitors could collect the materials while the cohort continued inwards.

* * *

After getting back into formation, the cohort set off again with their spirits high. They hadn’t been hurt, and they had gained valuable information on how to fight this new enemy. Breaking open the door out of the room, they found themselves in a long and fog-filled corridor, almost excited for less danger at the expense of monotony.

As they continued down the expansive corridor, Remliez began muttering questions to himself. At first, the cohort barely registered it, assuming it was just the normal muttering from the eccentric Explorator. But, as his mumblings got louder and more hectic, they all shared a look of concern. Remliez may be quite odd, but his inquisitive nature had gotten them out of more scrapes than it had gotten them into.

π-Braine tried to get the saurus-faced tech-priest to stop. “Hey Rem, what’s the matter?”

Remliez looked directly at him, his eye-clusters spinning around in the skull’s eye sockets, taking in unseen details of the hallway. The skull’s mouth opened, and a very confusing question was asked.

“Is this a beehive?”

Braine was utterly confounded. Remliez saw the metal walls and floor, right? “....No?” he said, wondering if maybe Remliez had finally snapped,

“Then what is that buzzing sound?” Remliez queried, his voice almost a whisper.

“ _ Buzzing sound? _ ” thought Braine as he turned up his audio processors, trying to make sense of Rem’s strange statement when he heard it as well. 

Small metallic skittering sounds, and an almost insectoid buzzing.

Diamodies slowly turned to Manarius, his voice a whisper. “Manarius, can you clear this fog away? We need to see what we're getting into.”

Manarius nodded and braced himself. Hydraulics tensing, he spread his arms as wide as his augmented torso would allow before quickly bringing them together. The clap reverberated throughout the hallway, the shockwave clearing away all the fog and revealing the stone walls.

The walls that were studded with circular tunnel entrances about a foot wide, each glowing a faint green from somewhere down their lengths.

‘Beehive’ was definitely one of the words that entered everyone’s mind. Alongside ‘den,’ ‘swarm,’ and ‘devour.’

One of the holes had a small, insectoid construct crawl out of it. Six segmented legs trailed behind its foot-long body as it floated out of the hole. Its singular green eye glowed dully, barely illuminating its body that seemed to be built out of the same metal as the Necron warriors from the previous room.

At first, only the single construct was seen in the barren hallway. Then four more emerged from the same hole as the first. Then five more from a separate hole. And then five more again. 

Jeremiah slowly holstered his pistol and activated the flamer built into one of his mechadendrites.  _ “Don’t need accuracy, just need power, _ ” he thought.

Xenobiologis Tiresus looked at the pict-feed the servo-skull Reditus was broadcasting back to the Caestus Metalican. “What are those?” he asked.

Scaevola looked at the image as well, a dark hunger for knowledge shining in her eyes. “Opportunity = Knowledge. Gather. [must obtain] Required!!”

The pict-feed’s audio suddenly was filled with static, and the ghostly image of Rhesak appeared to the side of the main feed. “ **_Scarabs detected > Source data surfacing…_ ** ”

The Magi were caught off guard by the sudden intrusion into their command room. Thoughts raced through the minds of all in attendance.  _ Could Rhesak somehow still be alive after all this time _ ? 

Reditus seemed to look ahead through the hallway, then sent a message to both the cohort and the Magi in orbit. “ .̩̻̬̦̳̅̎̃̏͘..͓̱̱̋̓̅ ̟̰̺̇̐͞N̝̯͓̈́̎o̗ ̤̻͡͡l̡̫͍̃̿͡ḭ͙̍̐f͇̭̋̔ě̱͎̍f̦͕̘̂̈́͠o̯̥͡͝rm͉̾s̠̫̞͌̐̓͛ͅ ̫̃ḍ͙̒͡ȇ̪t͎͞e̡̨͠͠ct̮̙̮̜̋͗̌͆ed.̥̠̣̑͂͊͡ͅ ̲̿̒͢Ar̜̗̽̾͜͠e͇̬̠̰͓̒͗̚͡a͈̖͛̋ ̪̿s͔͍̼̟͂͂͗̚å̡͉͗͟͞f͍̄e̘͑.̛͖̣̏͆ͅ Cȏ̳͚ň͖t̪̲̖͑͒in̲̆u̥̰̕͠ȅ̲̲̓ ̜͉̎̂fơ̬͈̦̗̈̌̍r̺̠̥͎͛̈́̔͌w̥̾ã̤͚̀r̠͛ḋ̳͙̳̪̊̈́̑s̡̘̹͕̪̀͊̓͐͞.̨͈̓͂”The Magi winced as they heard Jeremiah begin cursing at the Servo-Skull even through the din of battle.

Faustinius shook himself out of his disbelief at the apparent malfunction of Reditus before speaking. “Reditus, verify your cogitators, then tell me what surfaced from Magos Rhesak’s cogitators. What was that outburst?”

“ **_Scarabs of an unknown xenos race,_ ** ” came another intrusion. “ **_[biology] Synthetic, possible Artificial Intelligence. Once specimens gathered, A.I. theory = false._ ** ”

While Reditus was busy recalibrating himself, the ghostly specter of Rhesak continued onwards. “ **_[personal recording] Weeks of study show that there are many varieties of scarab. Each with their own roles within the xenos economy and architecture. Able to build and deconstruct anything they encounter, they’re able to repair other units within their species with lightning speed. Be warned: they are deadly in large swarms._ ** ”

Videx shot his hands upward in praise. “The Machine Spirit is with us! We’ve been able to access some more of Rhesak’s data that we thought was corrupt!”

Tiresus stroked the part of his rebreather that covered his chin. “It must be due to us recording these xenos forms that the Machine Spirit has blessed us with access to these cogitator records. The echo of Rhesak must connect the images to something it stores and releases them.” Tiresus paused, then looked at Faustinius. “Why in the Warp didn't he just keep them all in a data-medium? Why use synthetic proximity encryption?”

The Magos took a few moments to process the question, and returned inconclusive results. “I am unsure, young Tiresus. Perhaps it was the only way to ensure that the information survived in some format.” He turned back to the hololith, seeing the wall of flame engulfing the scarabs down on the surface. “Well… it seems Jeremiah and his cohort have found a—solution, of sorts. Flame units must be quite effective.”

* * *

Jeremiah’s audio receptors were peaking. The roar of his Flamer and Manarius’ Heavy Flamer, the crackle and *pop* of the insectoid robots, and the dial-tone emitting from Reditus as he updated his firmware to register the constructs as hostile was threatening to deafen him.

Nearly seven minutes had passed of continuous fire, and only now were the scarabs slowing in their assault. A few stragglers here and there needed dealing with, but Diamodies saw to them with his power axe well enough. Soon, the corridor was as empty as it had been when they entered. 

After scanning that the corridor was empty, and nothing was on its way down, the cohort advanced. The clumsy steps of the five servitors plodding after the five tech-priests echoed off the stone walls and floor. 

“ _ Two instances of severe danger in a single, supposedly-easy mission, _ ” Jeremiah thought to himself. “ _ Let's hope we can map the rest of this tomb complex with no more— _ ”

He and the rest of the cohort stopped in their tracks. In front of them stood an ornate door with imprints of planetary bodies and star systems, flanked on either side by massive sculptures of a Necron construct. Its legs had been removed and replaced by a large rectangular device. It wore a sort of crown atop its vile head.

It looked like nobility of some sort.

“ _ Feth me, I should learn to stop jinxing things like that. _ ”

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE give me constructive criticism. I always want to be better.
> 
> You can find me at Epsi's Hoard (of Total Command fame) here: https://discord.gg/YydhuBun2y  
> You can also find my at Blood-Moon Gathering, where I am a mod alongside 3wolves (of Monstrous Hero: Goliath) and Evil Angel (of Blood of the Moonborn) here https://discord.gg/XytrMFuXmZ


End file.
